


Rest Easy, Love

by Eilinelithil



Series: Lover's Leap [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Post-Apocalypse, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilinelithil/pseuds/Eilinelithil
Summary: After their strange experience the last time the Fairy curse took them from the Dark Castle, Belle expects herself to be back there. Instead, she and Rumple are in a post apocalyptic world, and Belle is sick.Nominated in the 2021 Espenson Awards for the Best Sci-Fi category.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Lover's Leap [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863370
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Rest Easy, Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fifth AU-gust fic. The prompt was Post Apocalypse

“Easy, Belle. Easy…” 

The voice was soft, the touch softer as she thrashed against the blankets with which she was covered as she began to wake. Her entire body ached, and she felt so cold, or warm, or… fevered. Was she sick? Recognition of the voice came to her then and she was filled with both confusion and relief.

“Rumple?”

“They don’t call me that here, but… yes,” he said. She felt him tenderly brushing back strands of her hair from her face, and she sighed and almost leaned in to the touch, keeping her eyes shut against the ache pounding in her head.

“I just had the strangest dream,” she said, and heard her voice rasp and _then_ realized that her throat also felt like it was on fire. “I think I was some kind of demon, and you—”

“It wasn’t a dream, Belle,” Rumple said. “I remember it too.”

“But,” she began to argue, “it can’t have been the Fairy curse.”

“Why not?” he asked, “We weren’t ourselves. We weren’t in the Dark Castle—”

“And we didn’t put any wrong to right.” She finished for him. “Nor end up back in your castle.”

“No, we didn’t,” he agreed. “We ended up here.” He sighed then and asked gently, “Can you open your eyes for me?”

She tried. She did try, but the world swam around her, out of focus and as though she were looking through murky water. The effect sickened her, and she took in a deep breath and held it to avoid vomiting all over Rumplestiltskin, but that made her cough, and the coughing worsened the feelings and…

* * *

Rumplestiltskin turned Belle carefully onto her side, and held her hair back as she brought up what little food he’d managed to get down into her only a few hours ago. It was all caused by the wretched cough she’d been left with after…

No. He refused to think about it.

When she was done he picked up a clean rag from the upturned crate nearby that served as their nightstand, and he tenderly - tears stinging his eyes - wiped her face clean.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Don’t know what came over me.”

“I do,” he told her in a tone that he hoped made it clear that he wasn’t going to tell her. “Come on, let’s see if we can sit you up a little. You can drink some water then… or some broth maybe?”

She made a face, and he sighed. “Belle, you have to try,” he said. “You need to keep up your strength.”

“All right,” she agreed, “I’ll try.” He began to relax, but then she added firmly, “And you are going to tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed again. He hadn’t wanted to tell her. He just wanted her to get well, so they could move on from this place - find somewhere safer, but if he wanted her well, then she had to eat.

“It’s a deal,” he said.

* * *

Belle reached up weakly, and wrapped her arms around Rumplestiltskin’s shoulders, just like he’d said she should, and allowed him to help her sit up as he propped pillows behind her back, before letting her lean against them. They were soft at least.

Timidly, not wanting to cause the same result as before, she opened her eyes again and tried to peer through the muddy waters that seemed to cloud her vision, to where she could hear Rumple moving around. She could only see shadows, and barely that.

He soon returned, carrying a cup that steamed and, as a matter of fact, once she caught a little of the scent, made Belle’s mouth water. She squinted, to try and see everything better.

“Here,” Rumple said, and she vaguely saw him set down the cup and pick up a small bottle and a piece of cloth. He wet the cloth from the bottle and dabbed at her eyes with the liquid on it, telling her to blink several times during the process. Each time she did the world around her got a little clearer until she could finally see.

She turned her face Rumple’s way, and couldn’t help but smile. He was exactly himself, except without the scales and his hair held only a little wave as it fell around his face. His appearance stole her breath a little, and she felt herself flush - or perhaps that was just the fever.

* * *

“What?” he asked softly, sitting back on his heels as he finished cleaning her eyes, and noticed the flush come to her face. His hand twitched in his lap, wanting to reach out and feel her forehead, to see if her fever was rising again.

“Your… your face,” she said and he heard wonder in her voice enough that it made him self consciously touch his fingertips to his face in the exact same moment that she did. He felt _himself_ flush slightly, but also the first stirrings of desire deep inside, a feeling he almost had not remembered, it had been so long. He moved to catch her fingers and hold them beneath his against his cheek.

“So handsome,” she whispered.

“Hardly,” he said, feeling his self-consciousness all the way to his toes. After long moments he said, “Anyway, you were going to eat.”

“And _you_ were going to tell me what is going on.”

“That’s just it, Belle,” he said softly, “I don’t know exactly. Oh, I know where you were when I found you. I know that the world we’re in seems in ruins, I know that there’s a sickness running rampant through everyone that’s still alive, but…” he sighed, “I don’t know what caused it, or how to make things _better_.”

* * *

Belle watched him as he spoke; watched his eyes and the truth in them. She nodded then, and reached for the cup that held the still steaming broth. The weight of it made her hand shake, and before she knew what had happened, Rumple’s hands steadied hers.

“Let me help you,” he said.

She did, and took several sips, and a few long swallows before she turned her head away. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to eat, just the act of eating even that small a portion left her feeling exhausted.

Rumplestiltskin seemed please. “Good,” he said almost excitedly, “That’s good. It might be that you’re getting your appetite back?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m hungry, but it’s just so exhausting.”

“I understand,” he said quietly. “Rest. It’ll be dark soon anyway, and we’ll need to head down to safety.”

“Safety?” she asked, with a frown.

“Don’t you worry yourself about that,” he said as though he realized he’d made a mistake in telling her as much as he had.”

“Tell me, Rumple,” she commanded him, and he sighed.

“There…” another sigh. “There are gangs out there. Hunters who are _looking_ for people like you,” he said. “If they _find_ you…” He shook his head, leaving the rest hanging.

* * *

“They…” He saw Belle swallow, and knew she had understood what he hadn’t said. “They won’t find us, will they?”

He shook his head.

“I made a safe place for us… before my magic faded,” he confessed.

“There’s magic in this world?” Belle asked, and sounded so hopeful it made him want to laugh. For all the times she’d told him he didn’t have to use magic just because he was the Dark One, now she seemed to want it; to hope for it. He wished he could indulge her.

He shook his head. “Barely,” he said, then feeling frustration mounting and with no way to express it, he lashed out. “Do you think I’d leave you like this if there were magic enough to heal you!”

“No, no, I… of course not,” she said, and he saw she was trying to resist the urge to cough again.

“Sorry,” he whispered. Then he reached for a small bottle from the crate, and took out the stopper, pouring a small amount onto a spoon that was nearby. “Here,” he said. “For the cough.” 

Trusting, she opened her mouth and let him put the spoon inside, then swallowed down the medicine without protest.

* * *

She tasted honey, but something else too; something almost bitter underlying the sweetness of it. Whatever it was though, it soothed the irritating tickle, and she sighed with relief.

“Thank you,” she said softly, closing her eyes as she lay back further into the pillows. With her eyes still closed, she asked. “Where do we have to go to reach this safe place you made.”

“It’s not far,” he told her. “But don’t worry, I can carry you.”

She opened her eyes again and looked at him. “You don’t have to, I should be able to walk, I…” she tried to prove her point by sitting up, swinging herself out of the low cot she lay upon. After a few moments she gave up. It was too hard. “I… I’m sorry.”

Rumple shook his head.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You’ve been very sick.” There was a catch in his voice, and she wondered how much of an understatement ‘very sick’ had been. “How long before we have to go?”

“When your food has settled,” he told her, and she nodded.

“And will you tell me more… when we get to where we’re going?” she asked.

“If you like,” he said, but she heard worry in his voice.

“How… how bad is it out there, Rumple?” she asked.

“Bad,” he said as though he knew she would want him to be honest. “One a scale of one to the Ogre wars… it’s right up there with the ogres.”

She shuddered, and reached for the cover as if the warmth of it would chase away the bad memories.

* * *

He saw the moment she was ready; the moment the medicine he had given her took full effect. He hated deceiving her, though it wasn’t truly a deception. There was an element of the medicine that soothed the cough, but there was also a fairly powerful sleeping draft in there, meant to help her to rest… to keep her nightmares at bay.

Without waiting any longer, as dark was coming on fast, Rumple picked her up. She weighed less even than before - less than a few sheets of parchment - and he worried for her; worried that nothing he was doing was helping her. That whatever it was that had been growing inside of her was not all gone, and was doing this to her.

Quickly, quietly he carried her down the narrow corridor and into the room he had created… a replica of his bedroom in the Dark Castle, with a blood magic barrier across the entrance. There he lay her on the canopied bed, pulling the covers up over her slight form, and hurried away, back to their hovel on the surface… one of many he had, to give her _some_ sunlight without always being in the same place. There was less change of being found that way.

Carefully, forgetting nothing, he made the hovel look abandoned. Already hearing the crackle of communication equipment drifting in on the night air. He hurried back to Belle, back to the illusion of home, and the very _real_ safety the room conferred.

He knew he wouldn’t sleep, but he also knew that at some time during the night, Belle would awaken. She would be cold, or afraid, sometimes both, and he needed to be there to soothe her. Without a word, he slipped into the bed beside her and gathered her up into his arms. She murmured, but didn’t open her eyes.

Even so, he said, “That’s it, Belle. Rest your head on my shoulder.”

“Rumple,” she breathed, still asleep.

“Oh, Belle,” he whispered against her hair, as he had every night for as long as they had been there. “Don’t give up. Please, don’t give up.”


End file.
